


The Whole World In His Hands

by Chash



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-20
Updated: 2016-05-20
Packaged: 2018-06-09 12:37:57
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,143
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6907555
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Chash/pseuds/Chash
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Clarke didn't think it was possible to ruin Bellamy Blake. But Monty's doing his best.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Whole World In His Hands

**Author's Note:**

  * For [museumofflight](https://archiveofourown.org/users/museumofflight/gifts).



> Last week I saw a gif of Bob Morley where it looked like he had yaoi hands (if you don't know what that means, there is a very NSFW link in this very fic full of visuals) and ruined Erin's life with this knowledge, and she asked me to write her a fic about it in honor of her birthday.
> 
> So happy birthday Erin!
> 
> Seriously the link is really NSFW and full of terrifying anatomy.

Clarke transfers to Ark University for the second half of her sophomore year, and she's worried it's going to be like starting the hot new TV show on the mid-season premiere, when everyone else already has their favorites and knows what's going on, and she's stuck trying to catch up with why everyone likes that one white dude she can't tell from any of the other white dudes.

Then she meets her roommate, which means she has at least one friend. She wasn't sure about Luna on paper; in her experience, anyone who identifies as a pansexual vegan can go one of two ways, but luckily Luna is the kind who's _awesome_. Clarke thinks about developing a crush on her for about two days, until she meets her boyfriend, Lincoln, and her girlfriend, Octavia, who are also great, so she just sticks with friendship. Which is probably for the best. She's not really ready for a crush yet, honestly. Not after Lexa.

But as a beginning friend group, Luna and her partners are great. Lincoln's a graduate student, studying art, so he can warn her against terrible professors in the art department and guide her through the major. Octavia is one of those effortlessly social people who can walk into a party knowing literally no one and just fit in, while Clarke, Luna, and Lincoln follow in her wake. 

Luna is outgoing in a different way; she just draws people in to her, warm and soft, making every smile feel like a blessing. Clarke doesn't understand how people pull that off, but she's grateful. She feels like she belongs with them.

Even better, she feels like she belongs without them too. She follows the three of them to the LGBT club meeting, finds that Monty Green, a freshman she knows from her drawing class, is there and also bi, which means, according to Monty, they're friends by default. He's got his own friend group, an energetic best friend named Jasper, a cute ex named Harper, and a comp sci buddy named Raven, plus a crush on one of the seniors in the LGBT club. He feels like the first friend she earns, instead of lucking into, and she's profoundly grateful.

Or, well, she's profoundly grateful most of the time.

 **Monty** : On a scale from one to ten, how much do you like weird porn?

Clarke stares at her phone for a minute. Lincoln's around, but not Luna or Octavia, so she shows him the message, and he also gives it all due consideration.

"I think the definition of _weird_ is the most important thing," he says, at last.

"Yeah, that's probably right."

 **Clarke** : What kind of weird porn?

 **Monty** : Gay weird porn.

She has to snort.

 **Clarke** : I meant why is it weird.

 **Monty** : Oh, just, like--bizarre. Not particularly kinky or fetishy. They're cosplaying in this one.  
One of them is Sephiroth from FF7 and the other is Goku from Dragonball Z. Before you ask.

 **Clarke** : How did you FIND this????

 **Monty** : Don't kinkshame.  
You want a link or not?

She shows the phone to Lincoln again, and he shrugs one shoulder. Clarke's about on the same page, but she is kind of curious.

 **Clarke** : I'm not doing anything else. Sure.

Which is how Clarke gets herself signed up for Monty Green's Weird Porn Newsletter. Not that that's an official publication or anything, but at least once a day, Monty will text her _NSFW!!_ and then a link to something completely bizarre.

"Seriously, how do you even find these?" Clarke asks. "I know it's not hard to find porn on the internet, but most of what I find is, you know. Naked people having sex. Sometimes some light bondage. Not--this."

They're in Monty's dorm, pre-gaming a party at Monty's crush's house by doing shots and watching some porn Monty found that's just a couple having sex while riding on those weird hoverboard things. It was, admittedly, one of the most hilarious things Clarke has ever seen, but at the same time, _how_ and _why_?

"I run a tumblr called _fyeahweirdporn_ ," Monty says, making a face as he downs his vodka. "I take that responsibility seriously"

"You have the weirdest hobbies," she says, and downs her own drink. "Did I tell you my roommate and her significant others are coming to this party?"

Monty perks up. "No! Awesome. Do they know Miller? Do they have an in? Can they hook me up?"

"So, Miller lives with Octavia's brother, who is, according to Octavia, the world's biggest, grumpiest nerd. He's in grad school doing classics stuff. I honestly have no idea what to expect from that. I don't have a brother, so--" She shrugs. "They're really close, Octavia says she can't believe we haven't met yet. I think she's excited about it?" 

"Oh yeah, that's an in. I'm counting that as an in. Awesome. And we've got so many topics of conversation! I bet Miller's never seen hoverboard porn."

"I bet he hasn't."

They do one more round of shots and then head over. Clarke's a little nervous about Octavia's brother, if she's honest. Her friendship with Luna, Octavia, and Lincoln still feels too easy, and as irrational as it is, this feels like the test she could fail. For all her grumbling, Octavia still clearly adores her brother, and if he and Clarke don't get along--

But that's stupid. Clarke's very friendly. She gets along with all kinds of people.

She tells Monty as much, and he snorts and pats her shoulder. "Yeah, definitely. Sounds just like you."

The party is loud and sweaty and gross, like most parties, and Clarke and Monty wade into the throng of people, trying to find anyone they know. She sees a few acquaintances from the LGBT club, but no one she's close to, spots Luna and Octavia dominating at beer pong. She looks around them, a little anxious, but if any of the people surrounding them are Octavia's brother, she can't tell.

They find Miller at the keg, chatting with a hot guy with tangled black hair and tan skin. Monty freezes at the sight of them, staring in horror.

"Shit, he has a boyfriend."

"He's talking to a guy," Clarke says, rolling her eyes. "That doesn't mean he has a boyfriend. I'm talking to you, I don't have a boyfriend."

"Yeah, but look at the guy he's talking to," Monty says, somewhat miserably.

Granted, Clarke has been having a little trouble _not_ looking at the guy; his arms look huge in his t-shirt, and he's got a pair of thick-framed glasses sliding down his nose that he keeps pushing up. It's endearing, on top of being stupid hot. And it brings attention to his hands, which are huge and perfect.

Clarke likes hands.

Miller punches the guy in the shoulder, which decides it for Clarke. It's just so-- _bro_.

"Only one way to find out," she says, and tugs Monty over to the keg.

Miller sees them first, lifts his solo cup to his temple in a salute. "Hey guys. We were just talking about you."

"Ominous," says Monty. And then, apparently unable to stop himself, he adds, "Yeah, no, I can't let that go. Really? Why? Like--what?"

Miller snorts. "We were mostly talking about Clarke, if it helps." His eyes flick to her. "Bellamy stresses out every time his sister makes a new friend."

"Oh," says Clarke. She looks back at the guy, giving him a once-over. He doesn't look much like Octavia, on first glance. He's much darker, for one, with a wider nose and mouth, but once she gets over that, she can see the similarities in their bone structure, their features, and something in the eyes.

They're also, apparently, unfairly hot. As a family trait.

"Your sister's, like, the most social person I've ever met," she tells him. "She's making new friends all the time. Are you just constantly stressed out?"

"Basically," Miller says. "Bellamy doesn't know how to relax."

"Fuck you," Bellamy tells him, without any heat. He's got a nice voice too, and when his eyes flick up and down over her, Clarke feels her heart pick up. She doesn't think he's checking her out, but--he's _really_ attractive. She guesses it's not surprising Octavia never mentioned it, but someone really should have. "You're Luna's new roommate?" he asks.

"That's me." She considers and then says, "You're the big, grumpy nerd?"

Miller snorts again, and Bellamy regards her for a second. Then he shrugs. "Yeah, basically. You guys drinking?"

"As much as possible," says Monty.

"This is Monty," Miller adds. "I know them from the LGBT club."

Clarke's pretty sure that's a flicker of recognition in Bellamy's eyes at the name _Monty_ , but it's just for a second. All he says is, "Cool, nice to meet you." He gives Monty a cup and raises his eyebrows at Clarke, pours one for her too when she inclines her head.

It's a perfectly encouraging start, so Clarke really isn't sure how, by the time Luna, Octavia, and Lincoln find them, they're arguing.

It's not even a good argument, nothing _important_. Clarke mentioned she was taking a class with Professor Pike, which is her least favorite, and it turns out Pike is Bellamy's thesis adviser. She's pretty sure they have almost the exact same opinion of the guy, with Bellamy liking him slightly more and Clarke slightly less, but she's not good at backing down from a fight and will always double-down instead, and apparently he's the same way.

Really, though, it's kind of fun, and it's not until she sees Luna frowning that she remembers she was worried about making a good impression.

Octavia just snorts and bumps her brother's shoulder. "Jesus, I knew you guys would get along."

Bellamy gives Clarke a wry smile, and her stomach flips. "Shut up, O," he adds to his sister, and Clarke thinks she might be in trouble.

*

Once she meets Bellamy, he's _everywhere_ , like when she learns a new word and suddenly can't stop seeing it in all her readings. Most of it is coincidence--they're at the library or the coffee shop at the same time--but some of it must be deliberate, on his side as well as hers. For her part, Clarke spends more time with Octavia, which isn't a hardship, but she knows the reason for it is the hope that she'll see Bellamy, and she's pretty sure he's doing the same thing, because it was a month before she met him, and now he's joining them for dinner and hanging out to play video games.

She can't be _sure_ it's about her. But she can hope.

They're at the library together, each working on their own papers and not really interacting, when her phone buzzes with a text from Monty: _NSFW!!_ and then a link to something on his tumblr. She debates opening it up for a minute, but her paper is making her vaguely homicidal, and she could use a laugh.

Bellamy watches with mild interest as she plugs her headphones into her phone and opens up the link. It's animated and is either a genuinely terrible educational film about how babies are made or a really well done parody, and Clarke's biting back her giggles in seconds. It's so _bright_ and _cheerful_ and fucking _graphic_.

"You gonna share with the class?" Bellamy asks, mild.

It's a valid question, and she considers it. "Do you like weird porn?"

He looks as alarmed by the question as she hoped he would. "Uh, I'm not sure."

"Monty likes to send really weird porn. Not, like--funny weird."

"Not funny weird or funny weird?" he asks. "That's a very important distinction."

"The porn is funny weird."

"Oh, then, yeah. I think I like that?" He makes a face. "Not really something I, uh--seek out. But if that's what you're into--"

"More Monty, but it is pretty funny." She jerks her head, and he pulls his chair over so he's actually next to her. He accepts the earbud she offers him, and he leans in close, his shoulder warm against hers. She doesn't breathe him in on purpose, but he smells good, warm and a little earthy, and she can just imagine burying her face in his neck.

She should have gotten a crush on Luna. It would have been a better idea. Even with the significant others.

"Jesus Christ," Bellamy mutters, unable to keep a grin off his face. "Where did Monty find this?"

"I have no idea. He's got skills."

"And he likes to share with you?"

"He asked me if I liked weird porn. It turns out that means I opted in for life."

"Huh." He clucks his tongue. "So--what else have you got?"

They laugh so hard at the hoverboard porn they get kicked out of the library, and Clarke feels, for the first time, like she and Bellamy Blake are _friends_ , not just people who happen to run into each other sometimes. And it feels like she owes Monty for that, because--she _likes_ Bellamy.

Which is why, when Monty wants to do figure-drawing for extra credit, she agrees to go with him.

"It's not as great as you think it is," she tells him, as they're walking over. "I just want you to be prepared."

"Do I get to draw naked people?"

"Yes, but--"

"Drawing naked people, Clarke. This is all I want."

"Will you let me be older and wiser for once?" she asks, and he laughs. "I was like you once, but--it's not actually that hot. It's you and a bunch of other people inspecting a naked person intently and trying to draw them accurately. And you might not even be into the model. Again, I thought, you know, I'm bi, I'd be happy no matter what, but--just zero sexual attraction. It was all too clinical. I don't want to crush your dreams--"

"She says, as she _literally crushes my dreams_ ," Monty teases.

"I just don't want you to be disappointed."

"I just want to believe in a happy, pornographic rom-com universe, okay? One where we come into this figure drawing class and there is eye candy and one of us gets laid."

"I tried," Clarke says, so of course she goes into the room and sees Bellamy sitting in the middle of the circle of easels, checking his phone. Because--of course.

"Green one, Griffin zero," Monty says, and then, much louder, "Hey, Bellamy! Is this gonna be weird?"

Bellamy startles, and there's definitely a second where he looks like a deer in headlights before he recovers his usual cool. "Octavia says my entire life is weird," he says. "I'll just ask if I can get a bonus because my friends are seeing me naked." His tongue darts out to wet his lips, and his focus shifts to Clarke. "Obviously if you guys don't want to stick around, I won't be offended or anything. But your call. I do this all the time."

"Really?" Clarke asks. She bumps her shoulder against his; acting normal seems like the best call. "All the time?"

"You'd be amazed how many people there are on craigslist who'll pay you to be naked," he says. "And only like three of them stabbed me."

" _Stabbed_ meaning--" she says, and he groans.

"Shut up. Seriously, I've been doing this since freshman year of undergrad, it's good money."

"And it's good extra credit for us," Clarke says. "So I'm staying."

"I just want to see you naked," Monty offers, and Bellamy offers his hand for a high-five.

"Just make sure you get my good side," he says, and goes back to his phone with deliberate casualness.

Clarke goes to an easel and gets her things ready with just as much casualness, pretending she's not watching Bellamy out of the corner of his eye. He's still wearing his glasses while he checks his phone, and she wonders if he'll leave them on or take them off. She hopes he leaves them on, and then she has to look away, because all she can think of suddenly is being in bed with him, waking up in the morning and watching him put his glasses on and lean in to--

"I assume everyone who's coming is here," says Professor Mason. She offers Bellamy a smile. "Are you ready?"

Bellamy puts his phone in the pocket of the robe, stands and stretches. "Yeah, whenever you are." 

He's facing away from Clarke, so she can't see his face, but it feels--deliberate, that she can't. Maybe she's reading into things, but she thinks he's actually avoiding looking at her, specifically.

And there's color creeping up his neck. That's hard to ignore.

"Excellent," says Professor Mason. "First position, then." To the class, she adds, "Our model today is Bellamy Blake. He'll be doing four poses for us. Thank you as always, Bellamy."

"Sure," he says, and then he's--naked. His back is broad and freckled, most of them clustered around his shoulders, but she can still see spots of them down the smooth skin as she lets her eyes trail down to his--jesus-- _perfect ass_. There's probably _some_ fat on his body, but there can't be much.

She swallows hard, tries not to stare as he gets into position. He looks just as good from the front, and it's a real effort to drag her eyes up to his face.

He's already looking at her, raises his eyebrows when he meets her eyes. She doesn't know how red she is, but--it must be _red_. She's supposed to be looking at him, but--she wasn't lying to Monty. The other times she's done figure drawing, the models have been older and bulkier, not unattractive, but not, well. _Bellamy_.

Luckily, he's also a great subject to draw, all sharp angles and smooth lines, and while Clarke can't quite _forget_ that she's drawing _him_ , she's at least able to set aside how much she wants to lick every inch of him and focus on the task at hand.

By the fourth pose, she's in a pretty good zone, and then Monty snickers.

It had been fairly quite up until then, just the sound of utensils on paper, everyone too engrossed to really talk, and Monty's laugh is startling. Everyone but Bellamy turns to him, and he gives a sheepish smile.

"Sorry," he says. "Just remembering a joke."

Clarke sees just a hint of a smile from Bellamy before he schools his face back into model smoothness, and just like that, her concentration is gone. She manages to finish off the last drawing but, honestly, she can't forget she's staring at _him_ anymore. Without the clinical detachment, it's just drawing her crush naked, which is distinctly weird.

Monty's drawing is bizarre stylized mess, though, so at least she's kind of ahead of him. Kind of.

"What was so funny?" Bellamy asks Monty, once they're done and he's wearing the robe again.

"I don't really see how it qualifies as _so funny_. I barely even laughed. And I was just thinking about something I saw online."

Bellamy glances at Clarke. "Is this a weird porn thing? Did I inspire weird porn feelings? Should I be flattered?"

"No comment," says Monty. "Ready to go, Clarke?"

She glances at Bellamy, feeling rude just leaving him, but he waves her off. "I've got another session. I'm very in-demand. But I'm doing video games with O and Lincoln tomorrow, I'll probably see you then."

"Yeah," she agrees. "Have fun being naked for money."

"Always do."

Monty waits until they're outside and walking to say, "So, do you want me to ruin Bellamy for you forever?"

It's about the last question she expected. "Ruin him how?"

"Like--you won't be able to look at him anymore. At all. I had so much trouble, oh my god. It's--yeah. This is a lot."

She thinks it over for a minute, her curiosity warring with a vague dread that Monty really _could_ ruin Bellamy for her. Not that it would be the worst thing, but--she thinks he does like her. And he might even want to make out.

But--she's _so_ curious.

"Hit me," says Clarke.

"Are you familiar with yowie?"

She frowns. "Uh, only as something people say when they get hurt in comic books," she says, slow.

"Y-A-O-I," Monty says. At her blank look, he smiles. "It's, uh, Japanese gay porn, basically. I've definitely sent you some at some point, but I probably didn't call it that."

"Probably. But I don't think I've seen it enough to be familiar with it."

"Okay," he says, perking up. It's one of her favorite things about him, how _interested_ he is in things. Some of them, like comp sci and engineering, are basically beyond her, but it's still fun to listen to him. And with porn, she feels like they're on much more even footing. She kind of knows about porn. "So this is mostly comics, not live action. So you're not getting real people. It's got its own style and cliches and stuff, kind of like--romance novels. But gay porn comics. And cartoons."

"That sounds great. I can't believe you were holding out on me."

"I'm just saying, proportionally speaking? Bellamy is, like--a Japanese porn guy."

"You're not ruining him. I already have porn fantasies about him. This isn't news."

Monty pauses. "If you come over to my room, I will ruin Bellamy for you. Guaranteed."

"I think you're underestimating how much I want to make out with him," Clarke says, but she's invested now. "But do your worst."

*

Monty's worst is [a tumblr post of terrifying Japanese porn anatomy](http://grumpsaesthetics.tumblr.com/post/128759927597/my-ultimate-personal-collection-of-bad-yaoi), and it's honestly really, really a lot to handle. And while plenty of it doesn't remind her of Bellamy, as soon as Monty points of the disproportionate largeness of Bellamy's hands--previously one of Clarke's favorite things about him--she can't stop seeing it. They're just--they're so _big_ , and she keeps having weird visions of him drawn in the manga style, trapping Monty against a wall.

It doesn't help that, once Monty's said that and showed her his figure drawings, those make so much more sense. Monty wasn't attempting to draw _real_ Bellamy, he was drawing yaoi Bellamy. And he did a great job.

If it had just fixed her crush, it might honestly be nice. Her breakup with Lexa was rough, and it's hard to convince herself she really wants to date someone else, no matter how much she likes Bellamy. 

The problem is that it didn't actually _fix_ the crush, just mutated it, like some sort of fun-house mirror crush. So she'll be sitting in the library, watching Bellamy type, and notice how long his fingers are, and think about Monty's stupid fucking yaoi hands thing, and so she'll want Bellamy to fuck her in the stacks, but will also be kind of vaguely terrified his torso will elongate in the middle or something.

In short: Monty ruined Bellamy for her without actually ruining him, and she's going to murder him.

"I did warn you," he says.

"Not _enough_." She makes a face. "Okay, yeah. I would have been curious no matter what. But you could have just never mentioned it. Even when I asked. Which I would have." She puts her head down on the table. "Fuck. I can't believe your weird porn broke me."

"I did make sure you opted in first," Monty says. "Safe, sane, consensual."

"I'm going to murder you."

"Murder is none of those things."

"Finals already that bad?" Clarke hears someone ask, and when she turns her head to look, Bellamy is sliding in next to her. He's wearing a tight white t-shirt that's worn enough she can see his skin through it. Which mostly reminds her she has actually seen him naked and knows how good he looks. And then he's smiling at her. "Aren't you an art major? What do you even do for finals?"

"Art," she says, petulant. "I have to do so much art."

"Well, if you need a model, I have a lot of experience," he says, and she groans. "What?"

"Clarke can't draw you anymore," Monty says.

"Remember how I'm going to murder you?" she asks.

Bellamy blinks a few times. "I think I missed something."

Clarke hears a buzzing and lifts her head to see it's Monty's phone vibrating on the table. If he's faking a text to leave them alone, he is honestly so good at it that she's not even offended. That would be genuinely impressive. He's got skills.

"Clarke can tell you," Monty says. "I have a date with your roommate."

She props her chin up on the desk to watch him go, with some awe. "I can't believe how much better his life is than mine."

"It's probably because he watches more weird porn." He cocks his head at her. "Seriously, are you okay?"

"Yeah, it's nothing. Just--Monty teasing me."

It's quiet as he gets his laptop out and she sits back up and goes back to her own work, but apparently he can't just let it go. "So, can you still draw me?"

"Are you going to be offended if I can't?"

"Just confused. I'm not really an artist, but I didn't think that just went away."

"I'm sure I can still draw you. Monty's just--Monty."

"Uh huh."

They go back to work, and Clarke tries not to look at him, or think about him, or, well, think anything non-platonic about him. They're friends. She _likes_ being friends.

She'd just probably also like making out with him, and sucking his dick, and having his ridiculous hands all over her.

"I think you should try," he declares, after about an hour. 

Clarke blinks. "What?"

"To draw me. Just to see if it still works."

"This doesn't actually bother you, does it?" she asks. 

"I'm probably going to pose for your class again. I don't want you to miss out on extra credit or fail an assignment because you can't draw me. I'm just looking out for you."

She worries her lip. "It is literally the stupidest thing in the entire world."

"And I really want to know."

"Monty was talking about your hands."

He flexes his fingers. "I do have pretty awesome hands."

"Yeah, um, he was saying you have Japanese gay porn hands."

At least he chokes. That's something. "Is that--what? Is that a _thing_? Is it--a good thing? It sounds like a good thing."

"The, uh--the guys on top? In Japanese porn comics. Have, like, giant, disproportionate hands."

"So you can't draw me anymore." He nods, very somber. "Yeah, no. I can see that. You start drawing me and suddenly it's just--gay porn. Or bi porn, I guess. Whatever the correct terminology is when it's two guys and one of them is bi and the other is--who's the other one? Do I have a hypothetical porn partner?"

"I have not drawn any porn of you. Well--okay, the figure drawing, but that wasn't _porn_."

"I'm sure it was very tasteful." She can see him hesitating before he taps his chin, which means he's now overthinking his hands too. Everyone is overthinking his hands. "How did it come out, anyway?"

"What?"

"Your drawings. Was it weird?"

"Not until Monty said you had yaoi hands."

"Huh. That sucks."

"It does?"

She can see him making up his mind, but his eyes are steady. "I was hoping it was, like--I was distractingly hot, so you couldn't draw me at all. That seemed like it could happen."

She laughs. "I like drawing hot people. I liked drawing you. Until Monty ruined you."

"Jesus, seriously? I'm going to murder him. I don't care how much Miller likes him." 

He's still smiling, and that helps.

"Yeah, as it turns out it's weird when you're fantasizing about making out with someone and start thinking that they look like a porn comic."

"That sounds fine to me."

Clarke pulls up Chrome and googles _yaoi hands_ , which brings up the post Monty showed her as the fourth hit. "Look, I'm just saying," she says. "This is scaring."

"Is it going to ruin my hands for me? Because I need these to jerk off."

She swallows. "I still think that's hot, so you should be fine."

His grin has absolutely nothing to do with the post, she's pretty sure. "Well, as long as you still think it's hot."

They make it about halfway through the post before the librarian comes over to shush them. Bellamy's head is on her shoulder to muffle his laughter, but it's not really working, and Clarke feels warm and bright and happy, alive with possibility.

"Yeah, I can see how that would make you never want to have sex with me," he murmurs, once the librarian leaves.

"I never said _that_."

"Huh." He shifts closer, presses his nose under her jaw. "So, you still want to have sex with me?"

"Well, I know your dick also has ridiculous yaoi proportions, so--"

When he catches her mouth with his, it's warm and soft, affectionate. It's not a kiss that says _I just want to fuck you_ , and Clarke twists around, even though it hurts her neck, so she can kiss him back.

"Was any part of this even a little smooth?" Bellamy murmurs against her mouth.

"So close." She bumps her nose against his. "Honestly, I think you were probably as smooth as you could be, in a conversation that involved me telling you you look like a Japanese porn cartoon."

"Thanks. I think." The next kiss is a little deeper and wetter, and Clarke is about to tell him they should go somewhere they can be horizontal and naked when he says, "Can I buy you dinner?"

"Dinner?"

"Yeah. I don't just want to have sex with you."

She grins. "Now, _that_ was smooth." She finds one of his stupid, giant, ridiculous hands and squeezes. "Dinner would be great."

*

In art class the next day, Clarke puts a comic on Monty's desk. He blinks a couple times and then picks it up and studies it carefully.

"Is this me and Miller with ridiculous yaoi proportions?"

"Yup."

"Wow. That's--honestly terrifying." He turns it upside down, cocks his head. "In its accuracy. It's like you've watched us having sex."

"I'm a really good artist."

"Thanks. I don't know what I did to deserve it."

"I think you do." She can't help grinning. "Besides, you ruin my boyfriend, I ruin yours."

Monty grins back, because he's a great friend, and he offers his hand. "That's exactly what I deserve. Congrats."

"Thanks," she says, giving him the high five. "Couldn't have done it without you."


End file.
